"Thank you for saving my sister, Jarek."

The voice snapped behind him, both calm and too close. Jarek froze immediately, his breath catching in his throat. His instincts screamed that he had just stepped into another dimension of danger.

Then the pressure fell. Brutal, relentless. Like a stone slab crashing down on his shoulders. His knees nearly gave way, and he had to cling to the ground to keep from collapsing completely. Each breath was a struggle, as if the air had doubled in density.

"Damn..." he thought, his teeth clenched. The potion had barely closed his wounds, but already his body was screaming again. This power... He had never felt anything like it before, no wonder he hadn't even sensed its presence when it arrived.

A step echoed behind him. A single step. And yet the ground vibrated under its weight as if a mountain had just moved.

"You're not disappointing, Jarek," the voice continued. "You survived where others would have died in the first minute. But... I wonder."

"Tch... Who are you and what are you doing here?" Jarek asked, struggling not to collapse.

The pressure suddenly eased, as if the world were catching its breath. Jarek gasped, swallowing the hot air of the destroyed room. He managed to turn his head, his eyes fixed on the silhouette that finally stood out between the debris and the dying glow of its flames.

A man was approaching. Small in stature, rather thin, dressed in a dark coat with torn edges, marked by dust and dried blood. His black, medium-length hair framed a face with severe features, where two steel-gray eyes shone with an icy intensity.

Each step he took seemed too heavy, too sure, as if the stone itself bent under his weight. But it wasn't his size: it was his presence, the abyss of power he carried with him.

He stopped just a few feet away, and for the first time, his lips curved into an almost imperceptible smile.

"My name is Hota Fagan." His voice was calm, without echo or emphasis, but it seemed to fill the entire room. "And if I am here... it is because you just saved my sister. "

Jarek, panting, gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, his gaze burning despite his declining strength.

"...Your sister?"

Hota nodded slightly toward Mira's unconscious body, lying nearby.

"Yes. Mira."

A heavy silence followed. Jarek understood in a flash. The pieces of the puzzle came together. Mira, Anton, Markus… the carnage he had left behind… And now this man.

"Hota Fagan..." murmured Jarek with a grin betraying his surprise. The man he had been searching for for over a month was now standing before him, in person, as if nothing had happened.

Feeling his presence, Jarek understood that he had done well to take so many precautions before meeting him. He didn't know if all of this was the result of chance or a meticulously prepared plan, but now he knew who he was and what his power was.

He was certain, this man, Hota, was powerful, perhaps even more so than him.

Hota held his gaze without blinking. The metallic gray of his eyes pierced Jarek like an invisible blade. No apparent hatred, no rage, only a glacial intensity.

"You wear your reputation well," he finally said. "But I don't need rumors to know what you're worth. I prefer to see for myself.

Jarek managed a strained smile, wiping the blood that was still flowing from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Tch... Rumors, huh? You believe everything you hear, do you?

"No," Hota replied without hesitation. "That's one of the reasons I'm here."

A tense silence settled. Jarek's dying flames still crackled, casting dancing shadows on the shattered walls. The two men stared at each other, like two wild beasts ready to pounce.

Jarek ends up breaking the silence, the husky voice:

"If you had come to kill me... you would have already done it. So why?"

Hota put his hand into his pocket and out came a pile of leaves. "The registers of the Assassin's Orders, that's why you came to this dilapidated city, isn't it?"

A cold sweat descended along the column of Jarek, who understood directly that their meeting was in no way due to chance. This man, he had everything planned.

"You knew then that I had come for this." he declared while remaining alert.

"Jarek, you are not the only one to have informed yourself about your opponent. Only, in my case, it was a little easier to find information about my target. Given that you are number 3 on this floor, you are a bit of a star. Knowing where you were, what you were doing, nothing was very difficult." Added Hota, gently shaking the papers in her hand.

Hearing this, a thought immediately manifested in the mind of Jarek: if what he was saying was true, then he knew, he was aware of everything.

"You're thinking about your student, aren't you? That young man you sent to the Brumenoire Forest. Sora, is that it?"

His premonition had unfortunately proven correct. "I didn't think you would go so far as to watch over a kid barely able to hold a sword in his hands. I didn't think such a weak person could scare you."

A slight smile appeared on Hota's face. "Obviously I'm interested, at least, if he manages to come out alive from this forest, then in that case he will be interesting to me." He replied, once again letting his presence invade the room.

Bending under the pressure, Jarek had to place a knee on the ground again. To try to reduce this weight, Jarek also released his, but injured as he was, it only allowed him to slightly reduce what he felt.

"I guess you're not planning on giving me those papers kindly." Jarek replied, struggling to not falter entirely.

Hota only barely replied. "Good deduction." Before heading straight for Jarek, dropping the papers in the air and taking out his sword.

The movement was so fast that Jarek only saw it at the last moment. A glow of steel burst forth, cutting through the air like a lightning.

By pure reflex, he raised his curved blade, the two weapons clashing in a muffled rumble. The impact threw him several meters back, his heels tracing furrows in the broken stone.

"Tch... damn!" Jarek clenched his teeth, his arm numbed from the shock. This man's brute strength was insane, almost inhumane.

In front of him, Hota remained perfectly straight, her sword still vibrating. The papers he had dropped swirled around them, carried away by the breath of their confrontation.

"Not bad," said Hota in a calm voice, as if he had only tested Jarek's respondent. "You stand despite all that. I was afraid that the rumors had exaggerated for you."

Jarek spat a trickle of blood on the ground, but an evil smile stretched his lips.

"Tch... Do you think that's enough to break me? You'll have to hit harder than that."

His body was screaming in pain, but his will did not falter.

Hota, relentless, slightly lowered his sword, staring at him without a word. His iron gaze contained no hatred, only that cold curiosity, as if he were dissecting each of his movements.

"Show me," he ends by saying. "Show me what the number 3 on this floor is worth as his body reaches its limits."

A heavy silence stretched out, broken only by the crumpling of the flying papers in the air and Jarek's heavy breathing.

Jarek firmed his guard. His breath grew heavy, but his eyes burned with an intensity almost equal to his desire to kill the man in front of him.

"Do you want to see this? Very well, Hota... but be sure to be able to cash it."

He took a step forward, and just as the fight had begun, Jarek unleashed his Ushi with a power he had only rarely used. The air vibrated around him, distorted by the rise in power.

In front of him, Hota slightly straightened up, raising her sword. The ground creaked under his feet, unable to contain the invisible weight of her aura.

Two forces ready to explode, in this already ravaged room, were now facing each other. The world seemed to freeze.

And when their looks met one last time, it became clear that neither of them intended to back down.

The heat exploded in the room. Flames burst forth from Jarek, ravenous, devouring the air around him. The already blackened stones cracked under the temperature, and an orange glow illuminated his face marked by fatigue.

A sphere of fire rose around him, responding to his determination. His body seemed ready to ignite itself, to sacrifice every fiber of flesh to prolong this fight.

Hota, he remained motionless. His cloak beaten by the breath of flames clapped like a sail, but his expression did not change. Only a spark of interest shone in his steely gaze.

"So that's... your limit."

Jarek didn't give him the time to say more. He leaped forward, blade burning, tracing a fire comet in the half-light. His sword hit that of Hota in a roar of incandescent metal, the flames bursting in burning sheaves all around.

The shock made Hota back off with barely a step. Just one.

"Tch..." Jarek grimaced. The difference in power was obvious. Even by giving everything he had left, he couldn't crack this man's defense. But he clenches his teeth. No way to give in.

He multiplied the assaults, striking, pivoting, his flames tearing the air, seeking the slightest opening. Each impact resounded like thunder, the entire hall vibrating at their duel. But Hota appeared calm, his sword describing precise bows, without apparent effort.

Then, with an almost dismissive backhand, he pushed Jarek away, throwing him against a section of a collapsed wall. The stones shattered, breath taken, Jarek felt his ribs scream in pain.

"Impressive," said Hota, slightly lowering his sword. "Even wounded, you refuse to fall. You have this rage... this refusal to give up."

He took a step towards him. Each step seemed to crush the air a little more, as if gravity were bending to his will.

"But unfortunately, your body doesn't hold anymore. You risk killing yourself if you continue to tap into your Ushi. And even if you don't die now, your limbs will become necrotic, your whole body has reached its limits."

Jarek, spitting blood, stood up again despite his trembling legs. His flame flickered, but his gaze still shone.

"Tch... maybe... but it will take me a few seconds to make you bleed."

Hota sketched a smile, slim, almost amused.

"In that case, show me. Show me if you can hurt me, Jarek. And if you succeed..." He raised his sword, the blade reflecting the dying flames. "... then I promise you that our next fight will be a real hell."

Taking this warning at face value, Jarek focused, his muscles flexing to the bone, his focus at its most extreme limit, and his Ushi to a point he had never reached before.

"Tss... I promised myself that I would never use it until I found it, but if I don't, I have no chance of getting out alive." He thought, as an astounding power filled the room.

The pressure was such that even Hota instinctively stepped back.

The Ushi that Jarek was giving off had nothing of a normal power, even Hota, who had killed the number 1, had not felt such power while fighting him.

"This guy..." Wispered Hota: "Where does he get such power from?"

As Jarek seemed on the verge of fainting just by releasing his Ushi, Hota clacked in his hands and added.

"Ahahah! You exceeded my expectations Jarek, you can stop, I wasn't planning to kill you, just test yourself. See if you were worth it that I seriously confront you."

Hearing this sentence and seeing no more murderous desire emanate from his opponent, Jarek stopped and looked straight into the eyes of the man in front of him, while struggling not to collapse.

Hota put away his sword and crouched down to pick up the leaves that had fallen on the ground. He noticed moreover that the whole room had burned, but that the leaves, as for them, were all intact.

He immediately understood that, despite the urgent situation in which he had found himself, Jarek had not forgotten his mission and had preferred to contain his power, even to die from it rather than to give everything and burn the evidence he was looking for so much.

After a few moments, Hota finally stood up and handed the package to Jarek, who accepted them without uttering a single word.

"I thank you for saving my sister, Jarek. For the trouble, I will not touch your dear student and let him make his life in the Brumenoire forest... He ends up saying, while taking Mira, still unconscious, into his arms. "I hope you won't disappoint me." He added, before heading towards the exit, as silently as he had come.

Jarek waited a few moments without moving, without speaking, content to breathe. Then, when he decided that no one would bother him anymore, he collapsed on the ground, losing all consciousness.

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